Half eight sounds ace. Where's this mythical flat? And cheers for thinking of my ego even if it's a mite unnecessary since the only losing I'll be doing is count of how many ruddy bottles of lager I've gone through.
You're asking me to trudge the leg-cramping thousand leagues across Diagon Alley in the bitter cold in the sodding dark so I can lose my life savings and best robes to you? Don't want for much, do you? S'pose it's better my robes than my lucky trousers.
Nah, I take it all back. I think someone's already started with the alcohol without me.
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Nah, I take it all back. I think someone's already started with the alcohol without me.
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What's the use of having a full cupboard of wines and liquors if I can't indulge myself once in a while?
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Can't bloody argue with that, can I?
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I'll save you some, don't worry.
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I'm that transparent, am I?
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